The Deity of Death (Virgins and Villains #3)

Chapter 3

3

MALIK

“ P retty swanky set up you’ve got here,” Henry says once we’re in the elevator up to the top floor. “Booze, whores, and gambling. What more can a man want? But isn’t it illegal? Can’t you guys get into serious shit?”

He’s in a better mood now that we’re moving. Perhaps the anticipation of his situation was worse than the reality.

“I’m sure you’ve experienced the accommodations wealth brings, Mr. Remington. A golden handshake can grease the wheels of even the most stringent laws. In honesty, it’s all for show anyway. Mr. Ali wanted you to feel comfortable. He ordered the hotel’s construction and offered cheap accommodation to fill the place with familiar faces.” I speak to him, but my attention is firmly on Melina.

Her deep blue eyes are glued to mine, hanging on every word I say as if something important is going to follow each damned syllable.

“All that for our little arrangement?” Melina crosses her arms under her breasts and props them up. With what she did in the club, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s doing it to further taunt me.

Fuck. I can’t even sneak a peek with Henry staring directly at me.

“Little? We’re talking about a merger of two world-rattling organizations. No stops are pulled to ensure the boss and his new business partners are satisfied.”

“And what if we’re not satisfied?” Melina crooks a brow. “I’ve only seen Nasir in pictures and videos. All of which could be doctored and altered to create an image of the ideal man.”

“Bridges are made to be crossed, and we’ll pass that one when we get to it,” I say.

I’m not going to delude myself into thinking this is a done deal. Melina has every right to fear the man she’s planning on marrying. But the thought of her displeasure in Nasir, while simultaneously finding interest in me, is delightful.

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open to a long, empty corridor. Forty rooms fully furnished and ready for guests, all locked up and off-limits to protect Omar Ali’s safety. What’s worse is the aisle of guards, one at every door, holding machine guns and looking mean.

“Oh, shit,” Henry mutters to himself.

“Don’t worry about them.” I lead the way down the hall.

We walk in silence, with only the occasional greeting from the men we pass.

“Are you ready?” I ask once we’ve crossed and stood before the great oak door leading into the conference room.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Henry speaks first, fidgeting with the half-smoked cigar anxiously.

“And you, Melina?” Her response is the only one I care for.

“I am. And for what it’s worth, Malik, I’m more fond of the Pale Prophet than the Deity of Death. It has a much kinder ring to it.”

Another name lost to time, though from her lips, it brings a smile to my face.

“Let’s get this done then.” I push open the double door and step inside.

Omar Ali sits at the far end of an unnaturally long table with Nasir, his son, beside him. The boss’ fat face is buried in a manila folder while Nasir plays on his phone. Both their heads snap to the door as we enter.

“Mr. Remington,” Omar says, rising from his seat with an anguished sigh. Years of living greedy have lined his pockets, but it came at the expense of a lean physique and his health. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Nasir stands as well, though his attention is focused on Melina as she struts alongside her father to the table.

“And you, Mr. Ali,” Henry says, but there’s little confidence in his tone.

“She’s absolutely stunning.” Nasir is next to speak. His jaw’s practically dropped straight down to the lobby.

“Everything is in order. My short time spent with the Remingtons has given me all the answers I need.” Straight to business. I can’t stand the sight of these two gawking at Melina.

Every time their eyes move, I feel my blood start boiling. I’ve staked my claim on a woman I shouldn’t have, but that doesn’t detract from the feelings it brings.

“As I knew it would,” Omar responds.

The three men greet with handshakes before we all take a seat. Henry finds a place next to Nasir on the other side of the table. I pull out Melina’s chair and tuck her in before falling into mine beside Omar.

She hasn’t said a word since we entered the room, and I’ve got a feeling she isn’t going to either. It’s different now. These men are orchestrating her future, and she doesn’t have a say in it. Melina’s probably nervous, scared, and concerned about what may come next.

But don’t worry, precious little thing, I’m going to help you release all your tension.

“Shall we get into it then?” Henry adjusts himself awkwardly in his chair.

I give everyone a moment to settle in before I make my move. With one hand under the table, I start inching it closer to Melina as inconspicuous as possible. She doesn’t notice at first, perhaps believing it was an accidental graze.

“Please, Mr. Remington, it’s our first meeting. Let’s not sully it by diving straight into contracts and formalities.” Omar waves a dismissive hand over the table.

“But it’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Of course, her first words after the greeting will exude confidence. Who am I kidding, thinking she’s afraid? When I set up the deal, she was the one who accepted it.

But if I’m not doing this to settle her nerves, if only a little, I’ll be doing it to test her theory from the bar. Soaking wet, and satisfyingly so? I’ll be the judge of that.

My hand glides over Melina’s knee, and her head immediately jolts toward me. The corner of my mouth cracks in a naughty smile. I start slow, with a gentle stroke of my thumb on whatever skin it’s touching.

I miss Omar’s response with how focused I am on my task. My fingers dance up her leg, and to my surprise, Melina doesn’t try to stop me. Instead, I feel her legs part farther, allowing my hand free motion across her.

“And what about you, Malik?” Omar asks. I face him as my fingers glide between Melina’s thighs. Warmth radiates between them, and it seems to transfer through my skin and straight to my aching manhood.

“What about me? My apologies, my mind was elsewhere.” And it still is.

Omar chuckles. “Plotting your next big score already?”

“You don’t know half of it.” Only this one isn’t monetary or a way to feed his empire. It’s all for me and in the palm of my hands. Literally.

“Settle down, son, and enjoy the moment.” Omar pats me on the shoulder.

Oh, I’m enjoying it, alright. Every damned second of Melina’s squirming.

“But I want your thoughts, shall we dive straight into business and hold festivities later or reverse it?” Omar finishes.

“Why not a bit of both?” I answer.

Before either of the men can respond, the double doors swing open again, and a troop of servers enter with silver platters in tow. Some deliver a feast of various meats, vegetables, and sweet treats to the table, while others start preparing a makeshift bar on the far end of the room.

With their entrance, Melina finally gets her chance to speak. She leans in close and whispers in my ear. “What are you?—”

“Like I said in the bar, I’m going to have to put your theory to the test,” I cut her off before raising my hand higher up her thighs and straight against her pussy.

A nearly inaudible squeal of delight floods my ear, and it sends shivers of desire coursing through my body.